Ultimatum
by Shakuhachi Jade
Summary: A familiar tingle at the base of his spine alerted him of the presence of his adversary. “A shadow duel, then,” Bakura said, barely above a whisper, “to finish this tonight.” Darkshipping, YYxYB. YAOI. Two- or three-shot.
1. Part I

**Dislcaimer:** I don't own Yami or Bakura; if I did, Yami would be the President and Bakura would be a sex slave to fangirls everywhere. This is purely fanmade for entertainment purposes ONLY.

[A/N: _I love darkshipping_, and if you haven't realized that by now, then you haven't read enough of my stories. Rated for swearing and **yaoi** kissing (and maybe the lemon in the second half, if I feel like writing it). Enjoy.]

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**~Ultimatum~**_  
Part I_

A familiar tingle at the base of his spine alerted him of the presence of his adversary. The room was not well lit; a single candle provided the only light – a flickering flame that made shadows dance on the walls like the women of ancient times. There was a broken night stand; a few loose boards on the stained, molding carpet; and two chairs that were positioned so they were facing each other. The thief smiled to himself and closed his eyes as he felt Yami's presence ascend the staircase at the bottom of the abandoned apartment. The shorter duelist stopped just behind the door to this room. It wasn't locked, but Bakura had a feeling he knew why the prince had hesitated.

As effortlessly as breathing, Bakura flicked his wrist and pulled from the pool of dark magic that filled the Sennen Ring. A dagger appeared in his hand, covered in shadows morphing around it as though they were alive. He could see his burgundy eyes reflected in the silver of the blade.

"Scared?" he said, glancing at the door.

A power blast that impressed even the thief knocked the door off its hinges, but he didn't even flinch as it flew past his face and collided into the opposite wall. The room shook from the reverberations. "Show off," he murmured with a grin.

Yami was staring Bakura down with his ever-present determination to _win_. It made the robber laugh aloud to see what a fire he could ignite in the former-monarch's eyes; it made his arms prickle with goose bumps. His longer-than-lifelong opponent never failed to bring an amazing challenge to the game table.

Yami knew that Bakura already had a weapon, yet for some reason he'd entered without one, leaving himself defenseless. Well, Yami _never_ left himself completely defenseless, but why hadn't he conjured up a tool for battle as well? He was up to something, but Bakura wasn't in the mood for subtlety.

He liked the way Yami's voice sounded when he spoke – as though he were commanding an army instead of telling off an insignificant bug. "I have never been afraid of the likes of _you_, Bakura. I've come here to let you know that I tire of your games; they shall cease tonight. Peacefully, if possible."

What _anger_ he held in his heart – oh, what _fun_! Bakura let out a resounding reckless cackle. When he snapped his fingers, the flame in the candle was doused suddenly in darkness. "So you _have _arrived seeking a challenge."

"I did not say—"

"Oh, but you _did_. Peacefully to you means 'lock him up,' and I'm not willing to do _that_ peacefully. Please, have a seat."

The former-pharaoh warily made his way over to the chair opposite Bakura's. His violet-red eyes were narrowed into slits that added to the anger Bakura could already feel radiating from him. A giddy feeling washed over him as well as he too let his eyelids fall half-shut. "A shadow duel, then," Bakura said, barely above a whisper, "to finish this tonight." He was waving the blade in his right hand casually up and down. "The winner gets whatever he wants."

"What is it that you want, tomb-robber?" Yami asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He still had not conjured a weapon…

"Me? Why, I want to take everything you have, of course! I thought I made that clear to you ever since you remembered who I was in Battle City…?"

Yami nodded. "You did. Very well – because I feel that I may need to bring this up after our duel, I shall tell you what I want as well."

Bakura tilted his head coquettishly to one side. "Oh? I think that's rather pointless since you're going to _lose_ anyway."

"I want to _own_ you," Yami said flatly, ignoring Bakura's petty attempt to intimidate him. "I want your every thought and action to bend to my will, just as they should have three millennia ago."

"Tch," Bakura spat, "Whatever." He stood with a flourish of his black trench coat and hunkered into a crouched position. The knife was no longer gleaming because the room was no longer lit, but Yami knew it was there. He stood as well, casually dusting off his navy pants.

Bakura sprung from his crouch with cat-like agility. The knife in his hand was already at Yami's throat before he even had the chance to blink, but for some reason he didn't look too worried about that.

"Game over," Bakura said, smiling wickedly.

"I know," Yami replied, staring into Bakura's dark red irises with such arrogant conviction… Bakura's blood boiled to see such a confident look on his face. He was about to _die_, dammit!

"You are so pathetic! I thought I saw some fight in your eyes, but really you're weaker than a baby kitten," the thief stated. "After I slit your throat here, I'll go after little Yugi and—"

_Bang_.

The pain in Bakura's side didn't even register in his mind for a full minute or so after he was hit, but the gunshot he heard was instantaneously recognized. He fell to his knees with his eyes wide in shock.

Yami hadn't been _waiting _to conjure up a weapon – oh no, he knew well of Bakura's skills in combat and in the dark arts. He had already conjured _his_ weapon before he had even entered the room. When the thief had lunged toward him, he'd had just enough time to reach into the school uniform jacket and pull out the small firearm. Apparently, it'd already been cocked and loaded, too.

"Damn…it," Bakura cursed, clenching the bullet wound with his hand to try and stop the bleeding. Damn it, indeed. He'd been _inches_ – literally – from finally killing that bastard… It was his own fault, of course; he's been underestimating Yami's abilities for thousands of years. Triumph was apparently destined to forever flash before his eyes, always just out of his reach.

"Get up," Yami commanded. Bakura thought the view of the decaying carpet was vastly more interesting than his enemy's face, so he chose to remain on his knees.

"Go to Hell," he spat. A wrong move; Yami deftly lifted his boot and kicked Bakura's side with such a force that his vision went dark for a moment or two. He realized the pain then, and just how much he was truly in.

"I said _get up_," Yami repeated sternly.

"Why don't you _make_ me!" Bakura growled back. There wasn't much he could do for his dignity now that he'd lost, but he could probably escape unscathed if—

Yami kicked him again – same exact place – and caused Bakura to gasp in pain. That prick!

"According to your own rules, I gained whatever I wanted when I won just now – and that happens to be _you,_ thief. You must do as I say, or…well, I didn't even need to look into the terms of our shadow game, but I think it rings along the lines of 'the shadows will take your soul unless you comply,' or something like that."

Bakura's breath hitched in his throat (and it was hard enough for him to breathe with a bullet wound as it was). How did _he _know that?!

He was right, though. Osiris take him, that bastard was _right_… Before beginning, Bakura had made certain of Yami's fate by enlisting the help of his precious shadows to solidify the winner by devouring the loser if they were to try and escape. He'd been so sure that he would win this time…

"Then let them take me," he said. The words were heavy on his lips. "I'd rather rot in the shadow realm…than be a plaything for the former prince of Egypt…"

"I can't let you do that, Bakura," Yami replied. Bakura thought hearing the pharaoh say his name like that was strange; he looked up at the winner of their fight with confusion shining in his eyes.

"Why…ngh, the hell not?" Dizziness and nausea were hammering against his head because of the throbbing pain in his side. Was his vision blurring again?

Yami got down on his knees next to Bakura and put his hands on the sides of the thief's face. Bakura was still glaring, but the defiance in him was gone. He'd lost. That was all there was to it. He did gasp when Yami further leaned down to plant a kiss on his lips…

"I want you here, with me. I can't have your soul in the shadow realm if I am to accomplish that."

Bakura couldn't believe his ears, or his eyes, for that matter. Did the pharaoh just admit…to _liking _him? _Actually liking_ him? The knife was right there on the floor, not a foot away from Bakura and definitely within his reach. All he had to do was snatch up the blade and plunge it deep into Yami's heart. All his problems would be _over_, but… what would happen after that? What would he do then?

For the love of Ra, was _that _what he thought his purpose in life was?

"Yami," Bakura said, "If I hold true to this duel, and my every thought and action is made in your will and name, then will you tell me what my purpose in life is?"

"Bakura, I don't think—"

"Be careful what you blurt out. I'm certainly not in the mood for games anymore. I've lost to you one too many times now, and I'm about ready to give up. If you answer correctly, I'll come with you. If you don't, then I'll gladly have my soul eaten by shadows." He rolled his brown eyes slightly. "I swear I don't see why you care anyway…"

Yami grinned and kissed Bakura again, this time longer, slowly. The thief broke the kiss with a horrible cough that tore from his throat, but he looked even more confused than he did the first time Yami kissed him. "Don't forget that I _do_," the tri-haired duelist whispered.

"Lousy stinking Pharaoh…" Bakura mumbled. He glared at Yami with the hint of a small smile.

"Come on," said the 'stinking Pharaoh,' "I have to take you home so I can work on healing your wound."

Bakura growled, "_You're_ gonna heal it? Why the hell can't I just do it myself?!"

"Do you have to argue about _everything_?" Yami asked with a degenerate sigh.

Bakura was still rambling on like a train that had run off the tracks. "I _know_ how to, so you can just keep your filthy hands to yourself if I am to—"

Yami wagged his finger in Bakura's face, shushing him as he helped the thief to stand again. Bakura allowed this, begrudgingly. "Ah ah – I command it, so you have to _deal _withit."

He knew this was coming. He'd killed too many people and used too much shadow magic in his life not to deserve something _torturous_. Only the lucky ones get to die without redemption… "Fine," Bakura sneered, "But don't forget that you've also got a question to answer, when we get to…_home_." 'Home' was a foreign word to Bakura's tongue. He wasn't used to having one…

"I know." Yami patted Bakura on the top of his head. "How else did you expect me to get you within my clutches?" He laughed, a deep chuckle as smooth as warm chocolate, but it sounded humorous to Bakura's ears instead of condescending, like it should have. Bakura had a hard time keeping the smile off his own face. He barely managed to, and only because the hole in his side caused him to cringe slightly.

"What. _Ever_."

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[A/N: This was barely looked over, so reviews would be lovely. Also let me know if you want a second half (with smexy _smex_ in it).]


	2. Part II

[A/N: Since several of you seemed to agree with me that you can never have too much Darkshipping, here be Ultimatum, Part the Second. Enjoy.]

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**~Ultimatum~  
**_Part II_

By the time the two ancient spirits reached the Kame Game Shop, Bakura still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that _he'd lost_, for good this time. Fighting with Yami was a perpetual routine that was part of his everyday lifestyle. Now that he could no longer do that, it was like being enslaved again just as he had been three thousand years ago. Time would cease to exist; his world would spiral into darkness, boredom, and an eternity of nothingness. It wasn't a very comforting notion to come to terms with, so in typical tomb-robber fashion – he hadn't. Yet.

For now, he would pretend that following Yami to his "home" was simply a mild irritation he was momentarily forced to deal with.

Yami, after slipping through the front door and leading Bakura through the maze-like shelves of gaming paraphernalia, made his way around the counter and stood stoically in front of an angry-looking Yugi. The shorter boy made a strong noise of disapproval.

"First you go wandering off without telling _anyone_ where you intended to be or what you intended to do, so I'm worried sick and calling all my friends to see if maybe you'd done something _normal_ for a change – but _no_, not you. Then, as I can very well see, you were nowhere to be found other than with that _monster, _whom you just so happened to drag in here." A pause. "_Yami_! Why?! He's dangerous! What's gotten into you?!"

"I might ask you the same thing, aibou. I didn't feel the need to tell you where I was going because it was short notice and a short meeting, besides."

"But still!"

"'But' nothing. I'm fine."

Yugi's expression showed quite plainly that he was not convinced. "Why is he here, anyway?" he asked, nodding quickly toward Bakura. The thief was presently trying to turn invisible, hunched nearly into a crouch below the counter so that only the top of his snow-white head was visible to Yugi and Yami.

The ex-Pharaoh calmly replied, "I won a duel against him, and the stakes were high enough so that I now have complete control over him. He'll be staying with me, for a while anyway."

Yugi's eyes were already fairly large saucers when they _weren't_ wide with surprise. When Yami told him that Bakura was supposed to live there – in the same space as him and his grandfather – his bug eyes nearly engulfed half his face. "I hope you don't mean in _this_ household."

"I mean exactly that, Yugi. It is my wish that he stay here where I can personally keep him out of trouble." Yami placed his hands on Yugi's shoulders and smiled at him. "Please don't fight me on this; if you do, you'll end up kicking us both out…"

"…You don't give me much of a choice with that kind of talk," Yugi grumbled, pouting. "You know I'd never kick _you_ out."

"Yes, and I also know you trust me. Let him stay here for a while, all right? I promise I'll explain everything later."

Yugi sighed. "Okay, but Grandpa's not gonna like it—"

Yami leaned in close to whisper into Yugi's ear: "I never said _he_ needed to know."

Before Yugi could even gasp in surprise, Yami had yanked Bakura back into a standing position and proudly announced he was retiring for the night. He was not to be disturbed.

All Yugi could do was whirl around and stare after his yami's coattail in complete disbelief. Without hesitation, he made a mad dash across the room to the doorway of the garage where they stocked extra items and did the inventory. On the wall was a white telephone which Yugi wasted no time in yanking down (after jumping several times in order to reach it). He dialed Ryou's number and waited while the line rang softly in his ear. He harbored a sinking suspicion that the British boy hadn't known what his yami had been up to either.

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Immediately when they entered Yami's room, Bakura was bombarded by the overpowering scent of incense. It instantly reminded him of Egypt – the sands, the tombs, the palace, the palm trees, the Nile, the market, the clothing, the people - but most of all, the Pharaoh. It reminded him of injustice – the horrible injustice that was dealt to him and his family so many millennia ago, much like the injustice of right now, when he was within striking distance of Yami, but could do absolutely naught about it. _Revenge would feel so much better than enslavement right now_, he thought absently. _Better than pointlessness…_

He sighed and took a seat on Yami's bed. Thinking about what he wasn't able to accomplish made him think about how meaningless his life really was. It was precisely like being shackled, when eventually you simply lose the will to live all together and nothing matters anymore.

"Bakura…?" Yami's deep voice floated across his thoughts and brought the thief back to the present. He blinked at the room, surprised that he wasn't in the palace with its silken and velvet throw pillows and tapestries, its golden throne and its high walls… The only remnant that remained was its inhabitant, sitting beside Bakura on an average sized bed in a tiny room that would have been used as a storage closet in the _real_ palace.

"Hm?" Bakura said, still looking around the room and not at Yami. There was a small desk against one wall, and an entire shelf stacked with nothing other than Duel Monster cards on the other. A few were littered along the royal blue carpet as well, their glossy surfaces shining underneath the soft glow of a bedside lamp. Other than the out-of-place cards, though, Yami's room was almost painfully spotless. Everything was in order; not a book or a pencil out of place.

"I asked if your wound was giving you any problems," the tri-haired duelist replied. It could have been Bakura's imagination, but it looked to him as though Yami were inching closer and closer towards him. Imagination, then.

"Um, not really." An awkward feeling crept into the air that made Bakura feel more on edge than before. It probably stemmed from Yami's imagined proximity and the foreign setting of his room. Either way, it made him feel terribly out of place.

"May I see it, just to be sure?" Yami asked. He'd meant it honestly – worriedly, almost. But Bakura took it as an insult, as usual.

"What, you think I don't know what my own pain feels like?" he growled, finally sending Yami a very familiar sneer. The ex-Pharaoh looked taken aback by Bakura's sudden vehemence. He should have known better; it was assumed that he was used to a bi-polar Bakura by now. _Maybe it was something I said…? _he thought.

"Maybe you _don't_," Yami whispered, metaphorically reading his mind. His violet-red eyes were filled with utmost concern – a worry that Bakura read as pity, and to him that pity was insulting.

"If I didn't know what pain felt like after being put through so much of it, then I really _would _be a basket case. But I know, Yami. I know the feeling _well_." He paused to stand up and start pacing in front of Yami's bed. "Hell, I've known nothing but pain for so long now, the feeling is probably permanent. All I'll ever know is pain…"

"So you see my point, yes…?" Yami sounded hopeful.

"No. Elaborate."

"Maybe you've harbored that pain in such a manner that you've _forgotten_ what it feels like. Maybe you've hurt for so long that…that you're used to the feeling…" he trailed off a bit when he realized how harsh his own words sounded, despite trying to say them in a gentle manner. Thankfully Bakura didn't seem to notice. The thief looked altogether lost in his own thoughts, his hands clasped together behind his back, head lowered in concentration.

"How," he said after a long, eerily silent intermission, "how is it…that the pain I was in…still in…never went away?" Yami wisely didn't answer such a question. The awkward mood from before began to blacken into something filled with tension and hatred. Words that needed to be spoken long before now came bubbling up to the surface.

"To me," Bakura continued, "it truly _is_ an eternal feeling – eternal pain. I lost everything I had to your monarchy – even my own _humanity_. I wished for weeks after your father's brother sacrificed my people that I had died _with _them, just so I wouldn't have to bear such a mountainous burden on my young shoulders!" Bakura paused in his monologue to face Yami with a fiery look in his eyes. They were glistening as though there should be tears in them, but there wasn't any. "I…lost…_everything_…to you," he said darkly, enunciating every syllable. "I didn't gain peace from the creation of the Seven Sennen Items like _you _did; I gained a living Hell, a raging war within myself that will never end, even now, some three thousand years later. I gained a kind of pain far worse than any number of physical tortures I was put through in my lifetime. There is nothing _left_ but pain! Can you understand that kind of hurt? _Can_ you?!"

As Bakura's voice nearly escalated into shouting, Yami finally decided to put an end to it, to everything – especially Bakura's pain, but to their feuding as well. He stood up, face-to-face with Bakura, and wrapped his arms around the thief's skinny waist.

A rush of breath left through Bakura's parted lips. It had never occurred to him that he'd never been hugged before until just now, when someone finally decided to give him one. To people who are loved their entire lives, something as common as a hug might not mean much. To someone who has never been loved at all, a hug is like redemption, like a second chance. Yami's hug allowed Bakura to finally feel something other than negative emotions like pain, anger, and malice. For the first time in his life, Bakura felt happy. He felt _loved_.

"I'm sorry," Yami whispered as his tears fell onto Bakura's cheek. "I…well, I had an idea that your life must have been hard, but I was raised to learn how to deal with hardships. No one ever told you… You really had…no one…"

Bakura didn't know what to say. It was the first time someone had ever heard his story, much less _agreed_ with him. He didn't mind as much now that Yami was feeling sorry for him. It wasn't pity - it had been compassion he'd wanted all along. He needed someone to feel for him, to reach out to him and pull him back from the hideous road he'd taken since he was but a child.

"Atem," Bakura said finally. He decided to return the hug he'd been given. And the use of the formal name did not go unnoticed by Yami, either. "I… don't know what to say…"

"Then don't say anything. I've given back to you the love that was so shamelessly taken away. Do with it what you will, for it is yours to keep."

"Don't be a fool—"

"Love is not foolish. Love is blind, but to the blind comes wisdom. The way I've ignored you – ignored your pain – for so many years, _that _was foolish. Seeing only your surface and the loathsome front you used to cover up your pain, _that _was foolish. But this…no, this is love. This is yours."

So not only did the former Pharaoh of Egypt likeBakura, he actually _loved _him. Beyond that, Yami understood him, which was just as important to Bakura as the affection. He silently swore that if his heart swelled anymore it would burst like bloody balloon. "I feel…that I'm in your debt, somehow…" he said, eyes shimmering with a few tears that he vowed would not be allowed to fall. "I mean, look at everything I've put youand your friends through, all just because no one had ever—"

Yami leaned back a bit and placed a lithe finger to Bakura's lips, hushing him. "You owe me nothing in return for the love I'm giving you, Bakura. Let go."

_Let go…_

Two, small, simple words that somehow never once made their way into Bakura's master plans. Two words that – given the chance – could have saved everyone a lot of headaches and heartache. Let go.

"I'll love you too, you know," he murmured, words awkward on his tongue. They weren't easy words for someone like Bakura to say, much less to whom he was saying them. To be honest, he didn't even know if he knew _how_ to love.

"You don't have to rush," Yami said, chuckling between soft sobs, "Whatever becomes of us now is out of my hands. I only wanted to set you free."

"Set me free?"

"From your hate. From your past. From everything."

"So does that mean you're not going to answer my question anymore…?" Bakura asked referring to the deal he'd made with Yami about knowing his purpose in life.

"Not necessarily." Yami tilted his head to one side. "Silly thief… Have you not been listening at all? I've already answered your question."

Bakura blinked, letting a single tear finally fall from his left eye. Oh. Right. _"Whatever becomes of us now is out of my hands." _His answer was that from the beginning: he didn't know Bakura's purpose in life. No one did, except for maybe himself. _Duh…_

"Yami?" Bakura said, taking his previous seat on the bed again.

"What?"

The look in Bakura's eyes said that he was tired, that he wanted to sleep on everything they'd discussed. His mouth said, "Never mind. It's nothing."

Yami wiped his eyes and laughed. If Bakura only knew how entertaining he was… "Surely you're not wondering where you'll be sleeping…"

Bakura's cheeks flushed and he quickly blurted out, "No! I mean, I know that… Well…"

"Go ahead and rest, Bakura," Yami said. "I've got some things I need to clear up with Yugi, but I'll be joining you shortly."

Bakura nodded. "Fine." He flopped down on his side, snowy head resting on a pillow, brownish eyes still peering up at Yami. "When I wake up, if I'm in a bad mood, just tell me that the part about 'setting me free' was all a load of crap and that I'm still under your control, all right?"

Yami paused in the doorway. "I don't know what you're talking about." He sounded genuinely confused.

"Of course you do! You said so yourself, you 'let go' or whatever…" he trailed off, glaring at Yami's back.

"No, I think you made that up. I never set you free; well, maybe_ sentimentally _set you free…But the shadows determined from our duel that I would control you, fair and square. That was our terms." Bakura couldn't see him grin.

"What?! So even after everything you said about love and pain and forgiveness, the deal is still on!??"

Yami finally faced Bakura, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. "It was our ultimatum. You didn't expect me to give it up before I even tried it out, did you?"

"Tried it out…What the hell do you—"

"Bakura – stand."

To his horror, the thief's body was now beyond his own control. He jerked upright in the bed and then stood up straight beside it. He gasped, unbelieving.

"Now don't move," Yami continued, "I need you still so I can concentrate on healing your wound."

"Was that a direct order too?" Bakura said sarcastically. He waved his hand up and down a bit, much to Yami's dismay, just to see if it was. "I told you earlier I was fine. You don't need to heal it."

"A wound is a wound, now be still."

After Yami had sucessfully (and magically) patched up Bakura's side, he smirked at him again. "What?" the thief asked suspiciously.

"Bakura – sleep." Yami's grin broadened. His eyes were grinning too.

Bakura scoffed as he was forced to lie back down and halfway close his eyes. "You're terrible."

Yami laughed. "I know; Yugi says the same thing all the time."

"So…you'll be up in a few minutes then?"

"Yes. After I speak with Yugi."

"Will you nap with me?"

"Yes, Bakura, after I clear up some things. Please go to sleep..."

Unwillingly, Bakura was soon enough out and snoring softly. Yami shook his head because he couldn't really tell if the thief would be angry or not when he woke up, but then he decided that it didn't matter. Everything was okay now.

But just for now. Yami knew well that when it comes to Bakura, nothing is ever okay for very long.

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[A/N: I know; I misled you. There was no smex in this chapter. There were just too many differences that Bakura and Yami needed to overcome, though, before they could move on to something like that. I gave you the version I liked best (despite Bakura having been a little OOC with the tears and the whatnot....). No promises for a third section (even though I left room for one…) Please review.]


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